"Now, papa, papa, you know it is no such thing. Dr. Hoxton's parties are very dull--you know they are, and it is not fair on Norman. If he was set up and delighted at going so often, then you would call him conceited."

"Conceit has a good many lurking-places," said Dr. May. "It is harder to go and be overlooked, than to stay at home."

"Now, papa, you are not to call Norman conceited," cried Ethel. "You don't believe that he is any such thing."

"Why, not exactly," said Dr. May, smiling. "The boy has missed it marvellously; but, you see, he has everything that subtle imp would wish to feed upon, and it is no harm to give him a lick with the rough side of the tongue, as your canny Scots grandfather used to say."

"Ah! if you knew, papa--" began Ethel.

"If I knew?"

"No, no, I must not tell."

"What, a secret, is there?"

"I wish it was not; I should like to tell you very much, but then, you see, it is Norman's, and you are to be surprised."

"Your surprise is likely to be very much like Blanche's birthday presents, a stage aside."

"No, I am going to keep it to myself."

Two or three days after, as Ethel was going to the schoolroom after breakfast, Dr. May beckoned her back to the dining-room, and, with his merry look of significance, said, "Well, ma'am, I have found out your mystery!"

"About Norman? Oh, papa! Did he tell you?"

"When I came home from the hospital last night, at an hour when all respectable characters, except doctors and police, should be in their warm beds, I beheld a light in Norman's window, so methought I would see what Gravity was doing out of his bed at midnight--"

"And you found him at his Greek--"

"So that was the meaning of his looking so lank and careworn, just as he did last year, and he the prince of the school! I could have found it in my heart to fling the books at his head!"

"But you consent, don't you, to his going up for the scholarship?"

"I consent to anything, as long as he keeps within due bounds, and does not work himself to death. I am glad of knowing it, for now I can put a moderate check upon it."

"And did he tell you all about it?"

"He told me he felt as if he owed it to us to gain something for himself, since I had given up the Randall to gratify him--a pretty sort of gratification."

"Yes, and he will be glad to get away from school. He says he knows it is bad for him--as it is uncomfortable to be singled out in the way Dr.

Hoxton does now. You know," pleaded Ethel, "it is not ingratitude or elation, but it is, somehow, not nice to be treated as he is, set apart from the rest."

"True; Dr. Hoxton never had taste or judgment. If Norman were not a lusus naturae," said Dr. May, hesitating for a word, "his head would have been turned long ago. And he wants companions too--he has been forced out of boyhood too soon, poor fellow--and Harry gone too. He does not get anything like real relaxation, and he will be better among youths than boys. Stoneborough will never be what it was in my time!"

added the doctor mournfully. "I never thought to see the poor old place come to this; but there--when all the better class send their sons to the great public schools, and leave nothing but riff-raff here, one is forced, for a boy's own sake, to do the same."

"Oh, I am so glad! Then you have consented to the rest of Norman's scheme, and will not keep poor little Tom at school here without him?"

"By what he tells me it would be downright ruin to the boy. I little thought to have to take a son of mine away from Stoneborough; but Norman is the best judge, and he is the only person who seems to have made any impression on Tom, so I shall let it be. In fact," he added, half smiling, "I don't know what I could refuse old June."

"That's right!" cried Ethel. "That is so nice! Then, if Norman gets the scholarship, Tom is to go to Mr. Wilmot first, and then to Eton!"

"If Norman gains the scholarship, but that is an if," said Dr. May, as though hoping for a loop-hole to escape offending the shade of Bishop Whichcote.

"Oh, papa, you cannot doubt of that!"

"I cannot tell, Ethel. He is facile princeps here in his own world, but we do not know how it may be when he is measured with public schoolmen, who have had more first-rate tutorship than poor old Hoxton's."

"Ah! he says so, but I thought that was all his humility."

"Better he should be prepared. If he had had all those advantages--but it may be as well after all. I always had a hankering to have sent him to Eton, but your dear mother used to say it was not fair on the others.

And now, to see him striving in order to give the advantage of it to his little brother! I only hope Master Thomas is worthy of it--but it is a boy I can't understand."

"Nor I," said Ethel; "he never seems to say anything he can help, and goes after Norman without talking to any one else."

"I give him up to Norman's management," said Dr. May. "He says the boy is very clever, but I have not seen it; and, as to more serious matters--However, I must take it on Norman's word that he is wishing to learn truth. We made an utter mistake about him; I don't know who is to blame for it."

"Have you told Margaret about Norman's plan?" asked Ethel.

"No; he desired me to say nothing. Indeed, I should not like Tom's leaving school to be talked of beforehand."

"Norman said he did not want Flora to hear, because she is so much with the Hoxton's, and he said they would all watch him."

"Ay, ay, and we must keep his secret. What a boy it is! But it is not safe to say conceited things. We shall have a fall yet, Ethel. Not seventeen, remember, and brought up at a mere grammar-school."

"But we shall still have the spirit that made him try," said Ethel, "and that is the thing."

"And, to tell the truth," said the doctor, lingering, "for my own part, I don't care a rush for it!" and he dashed off to his work, while Ethel stood laughing.

"Papa was so very kind," said Norman tremulously, when Ethel followed him to his room, to congratulate him on having gained his father's assent, of which he had been more in doubt than she.

"And you see he quite approves of the scheme for Tom, except for thinking it disrespect to Bishop Whichcote. He said he only hoped Tom was worthy of it."

"Tom!" cried Norman. "Take my word for it, Ethel, Tom will surprise you all. He will beat us all to nothing, I know!"

"If only he can be cured of--"

"He will," said Norman, "when once he has outgrown his frights, and that he may do at Mr. Wilmot's, apart from those fellows. When I go up for this scholarship, you must look after his lessons, and see if you are not surprised at his construing!"

"When you go. It will be in a month!"

"He has told no one, I hope."

"No; but I hardly think he will bear not telling Margaret."

"Well--I hate a thing being out of one's own keeping. I should not so much dislike Margaret's knowing, but I won't have Flora know--mind that, Ethel," he said, with disproportionate vehemence.

"I only hope Flora will not be vexed. But oh, dear! how nice it will be when you have it, telling Meta Rivers, and all!"

"And this is a fine way of getting it, standing talking here. Not that I shall--you little know what public schools can do! But that is no reason against trying."